


love trip

by legalmurder



Series: drabbles for oner, the boy group which is basically a double date [4]
Category: BC221 - Fandom, ONER, 偶像练习生 | Idol Producer (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, it’s pretty bad this one, lapslock, more a character sketch than anything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-05-03 02:42:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14559090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legalmurder/pseuds/legalmurder
Summary: “it is fate that we met.”





	love trip

**Author's Note:**

> i dont really like this personally,, but i wanted to write something really bad- i swear fluff is not the only thing i can write heh

bu fan did not believe in fate. he was a man who fell too hard, too easily, too fast. he dived headfirst into the abyss of what was seemingly nothingness. he was brash and wore his heart on his sleeve, quick to love or hate. for all his facades, he had the heart of an innocent boy who dreamed of making his parents proud of him, of being loved by people and of falling in love with strangers in alleys, faces unknown. 

he did not believe in destiny. it was a concept designed to give humans hope, he said. for without hope, we would be nothing. a cynical attitude, as it was called by his teachers in school. what he hadn’t wanted to admit, even to himself, was that he was scared. scared of the idea of a fixed destiny, and that there were no possibilities for him outside what he was destined to achieve. he felt stifled for the very thought of a fate chosen for him, entrapping him and his soaring dreams.   
yue minghui made him question himself. it wasn’t the kind of love that his parents would approve of, or the kind of love that he had dreamed of, even. 

it wasn’t the kind of first meeting that you would narrate to your friends at a dinner table, making them exclaim at how dream-like and beautiful it was. for all the world, they were a pair of boys who met in unusual circumstances, living together out of necessity and befriending each other out of the lack of choices. that was what the world might think, but bu fan had never been concerned with the world in the first place. not when he was a little five year old preening for approval, and not when he was a full-grown adult still hesitantly hoping for happiness. they became best friends, bonding over everything from their shared lifestyles to their childhoods to their dreams and hopes. it wasn’t something bu fan had expected to have with anyone his entire life, but he relished in the thought of the unexpected. that’s perhaps what drew him to minghui- a cold, logical and shrewd person for the world, but bu fan claimed to know the real him. it was one of the many private thoughts he cherished, how no one knew about the minghui who sleepily rubbed his eyes in the mornings, about the minghui who held his hand under tables, about the minghui who was passionate about music, about the minghui who wasn’t sure of himself but tried his best all the same, about the minghui who had kissed him softly whenever he showed signs of disappointment.

bu fan was human, after all. he was allowed to be greedy about some things, which is why he wanted to keep this side of minghui all to himself.   
minghui was different from bu fan. he kept things to himself in an attempt to maintain his reliability. in all senses, he was the leader, in charge of taking care of the members. in the past, he used to do it because it was his duty. now he did it because there was nothing else he could imagine doing for the other three, and for bu fan in particular. they weren’t his responsibility, far from it. they were his family. family wasn’t supposed to exist out of obligations. it was almost natural to him now.

natural, like it was when he told bu fan he loved him. for all his “keeping things to himself” routine, this was something he had needed to do. it was so unexpected that it made bu fan cry, but then again, everything made bu fan cry.

it was one of those afternoons where they could laze around and watch tv or go to the internet cafe just down the street, a place which they couldn’t frequent because “lingchao is still a baby” like ziyang had dramatically declared one day. these afternoons were precious and rare and that’s why they preferred to go out and eat their fill, instead of staying home. minghui and bu fan chose to stay that day however, curled up together under the barely functioning ancient air conditioner. conversation had fizzled out a long time ago and they were occupied with pressing kisses to each other occasionally, giggling like adolescents in love for the first time. but really, weren’t they just that?

this was another side of minghui that bu fan hoped no one else would ever see. selfish, again, but he was the point of caring when he saw minghui flash him his scraggle-toothed grin and he felt himself fall in love further. 

his mother used to tell him about the red strings of fate and how they tied together soulmates so that they would always find each other. bu fan, loud and annoying kid that he was, said it was impossible- that the strings wouldn’t stretch that far. he remembered his mother gently laughing at him for that.

he thought of the strings presently, and extended his and minghui’s entangled hands where he could see them. “you know, i have never believed in fate.” 

minghui turned to look at him, waiting for him to go on. 

“like, the idea of soulmates. or the fact that you are destined for a single future only, it scared me when i was a child. i wanted to do so much in life and yet there was only one path that i had to follow, you know?” bu fan murmured, staring back at minghui and kissing the bare skin of his shoulder. minghui kept quiet. through experience, he knew that bu fan wasn’t finished yet. secretly, he loved this feeling of familiarity that he had built with him.

“but i think... it is fate that we met. really.” 

“yeah?”

bu fan nodded in affirmation, ducking his head to hide his reddening face. a futile attempt, to say the very least. here, they were laid bare open, and they could see the minutest details about each other. there was nothing they could hide now.

fate or not, minghui was glad that they had this, this moment of idleness where they could bask in each other, before they had to put up a front of hundreds of people again. minghui was glad that he could kiss bu fan all he wanted, that he could whisper adoration into his skin. here, they could be as sappy, as doped up with love as they wanted to be. they could be themselves: the innocently carefree boy who loved too much and the silent, cautious boy who did not dare to believe in permanency.

“perhaps this wasn’t destined, but meeting you, being happy like this- that’s something i wouldn’t even have allowed myself to think of.”


End file.
